With Strings and Yoyo's
by Dance-Axel-Dance
Summary: Alfred got a gift from Francis he just HAS to show Arthur. Things don't really go as planned and get a bit tangled up... Both human and contry names used. One-shot. Up for debate whethr or not to be a two-shot. Was on facebook and saw a pic I just couldn't resist making into a story:3 Please read and review. First Hetalia story but I like it! USUK


**Inspired by this picture. :DD ((www. facebook. ?fbid=387497521331934&set =a.387129924702027.92264. 387124051369281&type=1&permPage=1)) Just remove spaces So I was on faccebook and saw this picture, it just came to me after that:3 Hope you guys enjoy!**

**With yoyo and strings**

"Hey Arthur!"

Sitting in his green arm chair, looked up from the notes he took during the last world meeting to find America racing towards him, not a care in the world. This was normal; America barging into his house to show him something _cool _or sometimes, England thought, to purposely annoy him.

"Yes? What is it," he asks, exasperated.

America smiles wider and comes to a halt in front of Britain. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a birthday bag. "Look what Francis got me!"

Looking at the bag wearily, England watched as America pulled out a new yo, its shape a _bloody hamburger_.

"Alfred… You are aware it's not your birthday, right? Nowhere near in fact."

The boy simply grins and starts to open the package. "I know, so that just makes this even more awesomer! Right? I mean I must be pretty fricken' sweet to get birthday presents BEFORE my birthday!"

"Yes, spectacular," mumbled England, rubbing at his already throbbing temples. "Why are you telling me about this anyways?"

Finally opening it, America fumbled with getting the loop around his finger to try it out. "Well, I don't know how to do the yoyo thing and Francis said if I didn't know how, then to ask you… So I was hoping you could teach me!" He exclaimed, hope shinning in his blue eyes.

"Oh…," mumbled England, blushing slightly at the adorableness of the picture before him. Cursing himself or showing such emotions, England quickly cleared his throat and held out his hand. At America's confusion, England sighed. "I you want me to teach you, wouldn't it be smart if I demonstrated it first?"

America blushed and handed to toy over quickly, fighting to get the loop back off his finger.

"Okay, so all you do is basically hold it like this, and then drop it. Before it reaches the end of the string though, jerk your hand back quickly and catch it. Understand?"

"Yeah! I think so," said America, quickly taking it from England and trying or his self. He did the same as England, but didn't pull back quick enough and instead ended up yanking on the string, the yoyo spinning into a rest. America scowled and rolled it back up, trying again. On his fifth attempt, he looked as if he was about the rip the string off.

England winced at America's angry face and reached out towards the young man. "Uhm… Alfred, do you need any-"

"No! I got it!" growled America, flinching away from England and focusing solely on the toy.

England looked at him as if he was a child and made a grab for the yoyo. "Alfred, just let me help you."

America dashed away from him, and began to try again. "No. I said I got it, I don't need any help."

England was having none of it though and grabbed the yoyo in mid swing. America growled and yanked it towards him, causing England to tumble forward, tangling limbs. Once both men managed to stand, they found themselves tangled together by the surprisingly thick string of the toy. That was when England noticed how close he was now to America; he could feel every part of his self pressed up against him. Blushing madly, England looked away and sought for an opening to his prison.

"Arthur~!" whined America. "I'm stuck!"

England sighed loudly and fought down another blush, as his mind interpreted Alfred's words a little differently. "Yes. We're both stuck; now help get us un-stuck so you can stop touching me."

America seemed to freeze at that sentence. Looking down he saw a faint redness to hi friends cheek and smirked. "You know, Arthur… We're very close right now. I can feel your every move…"

England glanced wearily at the man, pausing his movements as well. "Yes…? I can feel yours too."

Leaning down, America struggled a bit to reach England's ear. "I can feel your hard-on," he whispered, not losing his smirk once.

"My- I- … Alfred! You-," flabbergasted, England tried to pull away from America, only managing to tangle them further. Face turning completely crimson, England huffed out a pout and looked anywhere but the man. "I don't know what you are talking about. And would like it I you'd stop saying such things!" America smile widened and he rocked his hips forward, causing England to gasp, nearly moan even.

"I am too Arthur~, don't feel embarrassed. Just think of all the things we could do while this close," he whispered erotically in England's ear, purring on the man's name purposely.

England didn't think it was possible to become any redder than he was now. Closing his eyes, England stood completely still, willing his self not to move an inch. "C- Certainly not! Are you mad? I- I refuse to put myself in that kind of situation with you!"

Alfred laughed long and loud, head swung back and eyes tightly closed. "Arthur, I think we're already in that kind of situation." Smiling fondly at his friend, America lightly kissed his forehead. "Come on, let's get out of this."

Struggling to be set free for about an hour, England found his self losing hope. Looking at America pleadingly, England sighed and slacked his arms, tired from straining to keep them in the awkward place.

"Dude! I'm pretty sure I almost got it! Why'd you move your arms back?" America asked, pouting to the other.

"Alfred, you've said that about seven times now. Let's just give up and call somebody. We're obviously not getting out of this."

America grumbled and glared out of annoyance at England. "How do you suppose we go about that, our arms are _tied together_, Arthur. How would we get to the phone? Unless you wanted to get your imaginary friends of course! Go ahead and call them all you want! I'm sure they can help! It's your fault we're stuck like this anyways…"

England blinked a few times, surprised at the man's outburst. Feeling his self become angry, England took a deep breath before replying. "Alfred, I understand you are frustrated, we both are. Do you really think I want to be stuck like this? No, I'd much rather be drinking my tea right now or reading a book, but that is no reason to insult others who are trying to help you. And no, it's not my fault. It's both of ours. We were being immature. If anything, we can blame Francis. And next time you are angry, please refrain from insulting the existence of my friends. Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they aren't real." Breathing in deeply again, England felt his body slowly relax into the others, tension spilling out.

America nodded slowly, relieving his tension as well. "You're right, I'm sorry." He smiled wryly before adding on, "and you believe in whatever mythical creatures you want. I promise to chuck you into the nut house if it gets too out of hand."

Not in the mood to fight, England sighed loudly and smiled to his self. Dropping his head onto the others chest, he sighed again, now feeling the day starting to wear and tear at his energy.

"Tired?" asked America, his breath sending tremors down England's spine from their proximity.

England merely hummed in acknowledgment and nodded weakly.

America laughed and, since only their midsections we're tangled, began to walk them back towards England's arm chair.

"What are you doing?" England questioned, as America awkwardly sat down, England forcefully coming with him.

"Put your legs on either side of me. Then you can go to sleep without having to stand!"

England blushed at what potion would put them in, but did as he was told. Once comfortable, he felt his blood rushing up to his face, and though England would deny it, some went south as well.

"Comfy?" America asked him, smiling wide, nearly innocent.

Nodding silently, England rested his head on America's chest again, praying the other didn't notice his blush. Or the growing bulge in his pants.

Oh America noticed, both actually. He just chose not to comment on them, for once noticing the other's need for him to keep quiet. Re situating his arms, America managed get his arms around England, hold him in place. England sighed in content, snuggling closer to the man. "You know, Arthur…," started America, smiling softly at the other. "You're really cute when you don't have a scowl on your face."

England growled a little at the… compliment? Insult? He didn't know. "That's because you aren't annoying me."

America simply laughed at the man before hearing his stomach growl as well. Laughing some more, America looked apologetically at England. "I'm pretty sure that growl wasn't you."

England rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of his self. "Come on, get up. I have some scones in the kitchen."

America winced and laughed nervously. "Ahehe… That's okay… I'm pretty sure I have some hamburgers in my pocket." Struggling to stand up, England almost fell over before America caught him, arms still placed behind the smaller man. "Can you try and get them for me, Arthur? They're in the inside one."

England nodded, forcing his self not to acknowledge America's instant decline for his food, and forced his way to America's jacket pockets. "I can't believe you keep _food_ in here. I swear that's disgusting!" he mumbled, working his hands into the pilot jacket. He blushed furiously as he felt the American's muscles through his suit, feeling for the hidden pocket. Lord, did the boy work out. Hiding his face from America, England found the pocket in question and successfully pulled out the food. America whooped and asked England to open it. Fumbling with the wrapper, England allowed the trash to fall to the floor, wincing slightly as it landed.

"Here," he huffed, jabbing it into the others mouth. Not paying attention, he suddenly felt America's tongue licking the grease off his fingers. England yelped and tried to jerk his hand away, only managing in smacking his self in the face. He groaned as he felt the American peering at him.

"You okay? Sorry, I just couldn't resist. You're fingers looked so appetizing."

"Only you…" England sighed; working his arm back down, he give up on fighting the blush that over took him. Sighing again, England looked at America and gave him an annoyed expression. "This is getting ridiculous. Can we try to get out of this again, please?"

America nodded and began trying to twist around.

England cleared his throat, looking annoyed again. "Let's try my way this time. Okay?"

America smiled timidly before nodding his head.

A few minutes of detangling themselves, England found the string slacking around them, still certainly binding them, mind you, but most definitely showing progress.

"I- I… I think I got it!" England exclaimed, trying to spin out. He got a few inches away from America before tumbling back and dragging the American with him. He let out a loud yelp as America landed, none to softly, on top of him. Opening his eyes, he found the America staring intensely at his face. "America…?" he asked, weary of his reply.

Swooping down, America latched onto England's lips, eliciting a small moan from the smaller nation. Once he pulled away, America smiled wide, showing off his teeth. "You did it!"

Flustered, England stayed frozen for a few moments before registering the string was no longer binding them in place. Taking a deep breath, England looked back to the American. "Yes… I suppose I did. Although I'm sure our tumble must have snapped the string somewhere.

America continued to grin and placed hands on either side of England's head. He pushed his self to where all his weight wasn't on the other and stared down at him.

England cleared his throat and looked away again, cheeks, not surprisingly, turning red again. "If you'd be kind enough to get off of me, we could sort out getting you a new string for the yoyo."

"But I don't want a new string," said America, that damned smile never once leaving his face. England blushed heavily as America leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I want you, Arthur."

"Mister Jones! That is highly inappropriate and I will not tolerate that kind of behave-"

Before England could finish his rant, America had his mouth on his once again. Swiping his tongue across the brit's lower lip, America dived into England's mouth, exploring every undiscovered corner. England felt the blood rushing south again, and latched his arms onto America's back, grasping his shoulders from behind. Said American pulled the brit into his arms and sat up, pulling England into his lap, not breaking their lips apart for a second. England wrapped his legs around America's waist, moaning softly as he felt the American grasp his arse, pulling him even closer.

Slowly detaching their lips, England looked down, eyes closed and swollen lips partly open, panting for air. Letting his arms move from America's muscular back to his long neck instead, England fought up the courage and kissed the American on the lips again, only softer, and not as passionately, this one more filled with affection. Pulling away again, England grinned to himself, watching America's eyes grow in surprise before becoming suspiciously happy. America pounced him right there.

Sliding a hand up into the brit's shirt, America teased a nipple and sucked lightly on England's tongue. Before he had a chance to go farther though, he felt England pushing at his chest. Reluctantly pulling away, America looked at England to find the discomfort on the man's face.

"Arthur…?" asked America, wondering what exactly he did wrong.

England laughed lightly at the wounded look on the man's face and grasped it in both hands, placing a small kiss on his lips. "Alfred, as much as I would like for this to continue, I also don't just throw myself at people. How about you take me out on a date a few times and then maybe, if I'm ready, we can continue this, is that okay?" At America's quietness, England was quickly losing his confidence, feeling nervous as he was before.

Much to his relief, America's face soon split into a huge grin. "Okay! But I can still kiss you, right?"

England blushed but smiled anyway. "S- Sure."

At that, America attacked the small man again, silently thanking France in his head.

**So I was gonna add a lemon there at the end, but I started to get really tired:/ Who knows, maybe if I get enough requests in the form of reveiws, I might write either an alternate ending or just make it a two-shot. lol It's all u to yall! hah okay well thanks for reading, reveiw please, all that Jazz:D Night guys.**


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